


kiss the cook

by sweetbun_trio



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Kink, Cooking, Established Relationship, FE3H Kinkmeme, Feeding Kink, Food Kink, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Kink Negotiation, M/M, POV Dedue Molinaro, Thickvain, slight weight gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24542758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbun_trio/pseuds/sweetbun_trio
Summary: Dedue cooks for Sylvain. Sylvain enjoys eating what he cooks. Dedue has some new and unfamiliar feelings about that.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 17
Kudos: 94
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	kiss the cook

**Author's Note:**

> For the FE3H Kinkmeme prompt: Syldue feederism with Dedue as the cook based on that one line Sylvain says in the dining hall about no one in Faerghus knowing how to cook. Get this boy some flavor Stat and show Dedue some appreciation.

After completing the long and tiring journey to Duscur, Sylvain suggests they get dinner at a local inn. “We can discuss plans for tomorrow, what we want to see and who we need to talk to,” he says.

They are there to learn about the progress made over the past year in the restoration of Duscur, as envoys of the King. But this trip is also the first they have taken since they have been together, due to the years of instability in Fodlan after the end of the war. 

Dedue chooses what he thinks looks like the most promising, based on the menu boards outside the handful of eateries in town. A woman seats them in a cozy booth and brings out two mugs of mead. Dedue orders for the both of them and they pass the time by discussing the business they need to get out of the way first thing in the morning. 

Sylvain’s face lights up as their server arrives with the food, all of the many small plates Dedue had chosen being placed one by one between them on the table. As soon as they are alone again, he looks up at Dedue and says, “What should I eat first?”

“Take a piece of this flatbread, and one of the bowls of soup,” he tells Sylvain. He rearranges the dishes on the table to divide up the servings. Sylvain hesitates until he sees Dedue dip the bread into the soup and does the same. 

“Saints, this is good, it has so much flavor,” he sighs, alternating spoonfuls of the soup - a fragrant and spicy broth filled with root vegetables - and bites of bread. “Can I try this next?” Sylvain asks moments later, pointing to seasoned meatballs made of goat meat. Dedue nods.

Just as they are finishing up the last of the array of appetizers - savory turnover pastries and a cold gingery salad of tomatoes and peppers - their server returns bearing the main dish. He has been telling Sylvain stories about his childhood, and what Duscur used to be like, but that isn’t what Dedue will remember later about their conversation when he thinks back on this evening. They hastily make room in the center of the table for a large earthenware pot, and she gathers up the stack of empty dishes, replacing them with clean side plates.

Dedue spoons a heaping portion of food onto each of their plates. It’s a pungent stew of chickpeas, pickled vegetables, and various fish and seafood, simmered down in the covered pot over hot coals. They eat in silence for a while, just enjoying the food and being together. “Do you want any more?” Sylvain takes the serving spoon and is about to scoop what remained onto his plate.

“I am satisfied, go ahead,” Dedue states. Then he watches Sylvain polish off the rest of the food, scraping his spoon on the plate in an effort to get every last bit of sauce possible.

“That was so good,” he leans back in the booth, “Can you make that at home?” 

Dedue startles a bit. “Yes, if you would like it.”

“Due, I would love that. If you made us food like this all the time I might get fat.” Sylvain laughs and rests a hand on his stomach, looking pensive while rubbing his palm back and forth, cheeks slightly flushed and all his freckles standing out.

That image is filed away in Dedue’s mental reserve of happy Sylvain moments. 

Sylvain always enjoys his cooking, Dedue reflects later as they wrap up the duties they need to fulfill during this trip. It had always been a part of their relationship. Even before they had been in a relationship, when they first spent any time together at Garreg Mach, it was because Sylvain wanted Dedue to teach him how to cook. He enjoys nurturing and Sylvain needs his doting, he reasons. And of course the recipes he cycles through had all been developed with inspiration from his memories of his mother cooking in their little kitchen, and Esme helping.

But, Dedue had always stopped short from leaning too hard into the culinary style he remembered from his childhood, believing nobody in Fodlan would really want to eat it. Yes, a few people, like Ashe and Mercedes, and of course Sylvain, had praised his cooking while they were at the Academy. They had even encouraged him to share more of his native food culture, but he couldn’t bring himself to make any of the meals he remembered authentically. He didn’t want to be rejected for yet another reason. And besides, it brought up painful memories.

Now, in Duscur, he had seen Sylvain relishing the food, and it awakens something inside him. 

The journey back to Gautier, with a very short stop in Fhirdiad, was as long and tiring as the trip out to Duscur had been. If not moreso, because of all the extra baggage Dedue packed. He had spent some of his downtime between his official duties building relationships with local merchants and learning of traders who made their way up to Duscur regularly now that the country was well on the road to recovery, and then making contact with those who were in town. 

He assembles a list of leads to track down a steady supply of the spices and uncommon ingredients he would need to recreate the food he had shared with Sylvain in Duscur. He wastes no time before starting to incorporate the recipes into his repertoire. 

The Gautier estate has an unconventional arrangement in that it employs no cook on its staff, but Sylvain and Dedue prefer leading an unconventional lifestyle. The kitchens are Dedue's domain, and the two usually took their meals at its large butcher block table rather than in the formal dining room. 

Sylvain joins him down there frequently after he’s had a long afternoon of work, lately he’s often drafting agreements to lay a foundation for peace with Sreng. Dedue serves him a hearty plate and Sylvain eats and praises his skills. Dedue momentarily forgets himself sometimes, staring at Sylvain while he eats. He’s able to admit readily now to himself that it has an effect on him. 

One morning, a few months into this new routine, Dedue quietly gets up early, fixes a full breakfast and presents it to Sylvain in bed. Watching while he devours it all, Dedue waits in anticipation to clear the tray and return to bed. He wills himself not to dwell on the fact that Sylvain was already half hard before being touched. Unable to keep his hands off Sylvain, he caresses him until he’s panting and ready, Dedue kissing every spot on his body where he knows Sylvain loves to be touched.

Afterward, Sylvain gets up to dress and stands in their chambers in front of the mirror. He pokes his midriff experimentally. "Huh," he said, "I think I'm gaining weight." 

The comment jolts Dedue back to his mental image of Sylvain in the inn, laughing after their meal about how he’ll get fat. It’s been in the back of his mind ever since their trip, and Dedue has kept it buried there, safe.

Dedue stays in bed, assessing Sylvain. "Oh?" he hedges, knowing Sylvain often fills the silence in their conversations if he doesn’t speak at length. There was definitely a softness to his belly that hadn't been there before. Not enough that would be noticeable to anyone but Dedue, or Sylvain himself, once he was dressed.

"Well that was bound to happen," is all else Sylvain says on the issue that morning, before shrugging.

Later that week, they receive a message from Dimitri announcing a visit to get a full description of their findings from the trip, now that he’s taken care of some business at Garreg Mach that couldn’t wait. Dedue uses the banquet they will host for the royal party as an excuse to perfect his execution of several recipes.

It’s long after the servants have left for the day, and he’s still downstairs in the kitchen, when Sylvain comes looking for him.

“Whatcha doing?” he sing-songs as he steps behind Dedue and slides his arms around his waist.

“I am practicing making what I want to cook when Dimitri visits.” He disentangles himself from Sylvain’s long arms and moves to the oven to check on the last tray he had in there - the little savory turnovers they had eaten in Duscur. They’ve cooked to a nice golden brown so he pulls the tray out with a mitt and starts sliding them off onto a cooling rack. 

“Gimme,” Sylvain reaches for one but Dedue gently smacks his hand away.

“They are still hot,” he explains when Sylvain protests. 

“Why are you spending so much time on this anyway?” he asks Dedue, “Dimitri can’t even taste anything.”

Dedue feels himself blush, which is a rare occurrence. “You can have some of these,” he deflects instead of answering Sylvain’s question, gesturing to some crostini he had already assembled with cured meat and a little scoop of chopped cheese and spinach salad on each. 

Sylvain pushes one into his mouth whole. “Mmm, yeah, we should definitely have this for the banquet,” he says through a full mouth, cheeks bulging. Dedue turns back to mixing the spice blend to make the chickpea stew. 

“The turnovers are probably cooled enough, if you still want one,” he says.

Sylvain was reaching for another crostini, but he swerves to pick up a turnover in his other hand. “Well you can’t seriously be caring what Dimitri’s aides want to eat…So are you just showing off?”

Dedue laughs at the idea of himself, trying to show off, and tries to look at Sylvain out of the corner of his eye so as not to give away how nervous the conversation makes him about revealing this weird kink he seems to have uncovered. Sylvain doesn’t notice, because he’s surveying the entirety of the spread of foods in various states of doneness Dedue has lined up on the preparation countertop. 

“Are you doing this for me?”

Dedue freezes, his hands are still above the bowl. “I...like to see you happy,” he says, and then pauses to set down the utensils he was holding and turns around. “The food I cook makes you happy.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain points to some dessert pastries, “I think those would...make me happy right now.”

Before he can take one, Dedue picks it up. They share an intense look as it passes from Dedue’s hands to Sylvain’s, his pupils wide and dark, like he’s aroused.

That cannot be it, Dedue thinks. There’s no way. Suddenly he wonders what Sylvain sees in his eyes, as he watches him closely, gaze darting down to his neck as he swallows. Can he see how much this is riling him up? He shifts his stance, the beginnings of an erection tightening his pants uncomfortably. 

Sylvain steps closer to him. "Can I have another?" he says, low in his throat.

Dedue reaches out, a second pastry pressed against Sylvain's lips. Sylvain bites into it, holding his gaze. 

"You're into this too, like _into it_ into it" he says, and Dedue nods in surprise. "Oh sweet Sothis, I'm glad we sorted that out," Sylvain breathes. He takes another bite, sucking the sugar off the tips of Dedue's fingers. Dedue feels arousal flare low in his belly at the sensation. He leans toward Sylvain, capturing his mouth in a kiss. The taste of almond and noa fruit lingers on Sylvain's lips. He licks into his mouth, wanting more. Sylvain opens for him, a low moan rumbling in his chest. He pulls away and looks up through dark eyelashes. "More," he says.

Dedue grabs at Sylvain, getting a handful of flesh he’s gained above his hip, and pushes him backward until he pins him against the heavy table. He slots one thigh between Sylvain’s legs, noticing that he’s hard too. Sylvain grinds down onto him, before slipping out from under Dedue’s arm and trading places so Dedue is leaned against the table. 

He kisses Dedue’s neck, sucking on the hollow between his neck and collarbone, and undoes his shirt buttons while placing wet kisses one after another in the wake of his opening shirt. Continuing lower, Sylvain unfastens his pants and pushes them down along with his underwear just enough to get access. He looks up at Dedue before closing his mouth around the head of his dick, eyes half closed, moaning softly. 

Sylvain works him with his tongue, grasping his shaft at the base. Even then, his mouth was full. Dedue can feel he’s already close and with all the tension building over what he thought was a secret for months, he’s sure he’s not going to last. He rests his hand on Sylvain’s shoulder, then strokes his cheek with his thumb, indicating he’s going to come soon. Sylvain doesn’t let up, increasing the pace until Dedue is coming and he grips the table behind him while he cries out. His legs are shaking, and he runs his fingers into red hair, sinking down until he’s sitting next to Sylvain, who is wiping his mouth. 

He works to catch his breath while fixing his pants back in place, and lets himself be held while he comes down from his orgasm. “Well that was super fucking hot,” Sylvain says as he palms himself through his pants. 

Dedue turns toward him and helps him free himself before pressing him down so he’s lying on the floor. Sylvain lies back, compliant. He rucks Sylvain’s shirt up and presses his mouth to the soft spot right below his navel. Sylvain hisses sharply on an inhale when he bites down. He closes his fingers around Sylvain’s cock, using his thumb to smear precum around the head and tugging a little before releasing him. Repositioning himself between Sylvain’s legs, Dedue nips and kisses his way up the inside of his thigh until he’s arching his back and begging. 

Dedue waits just long enough to tease and then takes the whole length of Sylvain’s dick in his mouth. He licks along the underside as he pulls his mouth up and then swirls his tongue around the head before sucking him back down, again and again. He sets a languid pace and draws out Sylvain’s pleasure, stroking his balls until he feels them start to draw up. 

“Dedue - ahh,” Sylvain starts and devolves into breathless blabbering nonsense. He pulls off and Sylvain comes on his stomach while Dedue pumps him through it. 

Dedue gets up to find a towel and returns to clean up. 

“How long?” he asks, wiping up the mess.

“Since what?” Sylvain says and grins, looking up at him. “Since I realized what you were doing? Or since I realized whatever you were doing got me off and I wanted more?” He kicks his pants off from where they had caught around his ankle.

Dedue snort-laughs. “I was inquiring about the first, but please answer both questions.”

Sylvain lifts himself up on his elbows, his eyes twinkling as he says, “Oh I had your number from the very first night we were in Duscur.” He pushes himself up all the way until he’s seated next to Dedue.

“You did?” Dedue says, his voice several pitches higher than normal.

“Yeah, Due, I love you and I can definitely tell when you’re eye-fucking me.” Sylvain cups the strong line of his jaw and turns his face to look him in the eye. “As to the second question,” he places a kiss right next to the corner of Dedue’s mouth, “I think it was when my dick got hard while I was eating and you were watching me eat.” He chuckles softly. 

“I love you too, Syl,” Dedue says, then another fear materializes and he decides he had better vocalize it immediately. “I can adjust my cooking, though, if you want.”

“Why? Everything you make is so fucking good I don’t know why you didn’t cook like this all along.” Sylvain swings a leg over Dedue’s lap and straddles him. 

“I did not think anyone would like it,” he starts, but the words catch in his throat and suddenly his eyes burn, “because it is from Duscur.” Dedue squeezes his eyes shut and feels the tears that had gathered spill over. Sylvain brushes the tears away and leans forward into him. Dedue rests his chin on Sylvain’s shoulder, and his hands slide up under his shirt and around his waist and he continues, “I meant, if you don’t like this, I can adjust the recipes, make them lighter.”

“Do you dislike this?” Sylvain looks down at himself, at the way Dedue’s hands are idly squeezing his love handles. 

“That is not important, Sylvain. Only you have any say over your own body.”

“See, that’s exactly right. It’s not like you made me eat anything.” Sylvain runs his hands over his stomach. “Anyway, I think it’s fine, it’s kind of nice. It’s proof of happiness, and love, and no longer having to fight and kill.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true,” Dedue smiles, “and also, I do like this more … comfortable version of you.”

Sylvain laughs and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter @sweetbun_trio


End file.
